Jesus. Thank goodness I have sons and not little girls. You want creepy? This is creepy!
This old story from the incredible Dame Beryl Bainbridge reminds me of the morbid calculations in 'The Bad Seed' but then slinked over with the precocious sexuality of 'Lolita.' All three were written in the mid 1950s, but this debut of Bainbridge's was actually inspired by the real-world New Zealand murder case of two young teenagers. The writer Anne Perry was one of the girls convicted of murder, and after her prison term (they got five years only because they were juveniles) began writing successful crime stories. Bizarre irony...
To provide a book-report styled review would spoil some of this short novel for you, so I'll only say this. If you've ever seen a child manipulated into despicable acts by his or her best friend - maybe egging an elderly neighbor's car - then this tale will be relatable. What is difficult to swallow, however, is the calculated sexuality of 13 year old girls seemingly from stable homes. I've got a 14 year old kid of my own, so my "creepy meter" was pinging pretty loudly in here. There is nothing flagrantly expressed, but the ugliness is there.
With that stated, readers will know going in that there are dangerous acts going to be committed in this story and that (supposedly) childish manipulations have a role. The first few pages will bear this out, and the remainder of the story back-tracks to that opening seaside night full of screams.
While the book is disturbing, Bainbridge's writing skill buoyed the story up for me. There is repeated commentary on self-image and the stoutness of women.
"Three high bosomed women in hard bowler hats, sitting penguin-shaped on three fleshy horses, appeared at the corner of the lane. Massive and leisurely they passed our gate, filling the lane with tweed jackets and cello thighs."
As for a bit of foreshadowing, I absolutely love this excerpt. It is from a moment while an attentive mother wants to capture the sweetness of the little girls in her garden on film.
"... and the shutter clicked.
What if the film exposed not three children in the sun, but one between two spectres, wearing childish smiles. Faces that crumbled like bread in the fingers, and showed a fearful disintegration."
When so many contemporary novels are now spiraling around bad girls involved in murder, in framing their husbands of the same, or choosing ne'er-do-wells who deserve to be eliminated, the authors can thank Dame Beryl for breaking the ice for them 60 years ago.
Short, not sweet, creepy. Grab a copy!
My thanks to Net Galley for allowing me the chance to sample this dark nugget.